


Out of the darkness and into the sun

by CherryBlossomLesbian



Series: Prompt Fills [13]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Birthday, Discussions of death, Gen, Memory Loss, Mention of Kidnapping, Panic Attacks, Paranoia, Past Torture, Prompt Fill, Surprise Party, Therapy, mention of drafting, mention of war, mortality discussion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2020-11-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:00:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27721064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryBlossomLesbian/pseuds/CherryBlossomLesbian
Summary: In which it's Bucky's first birthday back in the twenty-first century, a therapy appointment is had, and a surprise party was not the best idea.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes & Steve Rogers
Series: Prompt Fills [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1978546
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	Out of the darkness and into the sun

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: “Keep your eyes on me.”  
> “Okay.”  
> [Original prompt post](https://gfuckign.tumblr.com/post/635719002527858688/keep-your-eyes-on-me)
> 
> Okay so I know Bucky's birthday was in March, but it's never too late to post birthday whump, is it?
> 
> Warning: This work contains a panic attack. It also contains mentions of war, drafting, kidnapping, and discussion about mortality. It also contains paranoia and past torture. 
> 
> Title is from Breakaway by Kelly Clarkson

Bucky groaned as he got out of bed. 

He woke up with his head aching, most likely the result of a nightmare he can't remember. That tends to happen a lot- he'll wake up with a splitting headache, and the knowledge that he'd had a nightmare, but not remembering what it was about. 

It annoyed him. He felt like it was just another aspect of his life he had no control over, another piece of his memory gone. 

He slowly stepped out of his room and into the main foyer of the townhouse he shared with Steve, Sam, and Natasha. It was settled right on the edge of Manhattan, closeby to both the Tower and Bucky's therapist's office. Those two places were pretty much the only places he went, anyway. 

Speaking of his therapist, he reminded himself he had a meeting with him in about an hour. Perks of waking up at noon, he supposed. Get right on to therapy directly after getting ready for the day. 

He muddled on to the kitchen, getting a large glass of water and drinking it all down in a minute. He was about to head to the pantry to grab his usual breakfast of a granola bar when Steve came down the stairway from his own room. There was one bedroom on the first floor, which belonged to Bucky, while the rest slept upstairs in their respective rooms. Being so close to the kitchen was good for when he couldn't sleep and needed a midnight snack, so he didn't complain about it. 

"You're finally up." Steve said as a greeting. "Happy March 10th." 

Bucky eyed him suspiciously. "Am I supposed to know that date? Or are you just excited about the second Tuesday in March?" 

"It's Wednesday, actually." Steve corrected sheepishly, opening the fridge and pulling out a small, pristine white box, with Natasha's name signed into it in sharpie with what was not Natasha, or any of theirs, handwriting. 

"And yes, it's an important date." Steve grinned as he opened the box slowly, revealing a chocolate cupcake iced with blue frosting and little gold candy pearls. 

There was a topper that spelled 'Happy Birthday' in what looked to be white chocolate. 

Bucky just grew more confused, and he's sure his face morphed to display it. 

"It's your birthday, Buck." Steve clarified, finally. "Your first one since you came back." 

He took a few minutes to process what Steve was saying, because, honestly, he'd forgotten he had a birthday at all. He knew birthdays existed, they'd celebrated Nat's just a few weeks after he came back, but it just never occurred to him he had one of those. 

He swallowed thickly. "I…forgot." He admitted. 

Steve nodded, swallowing as well. "That's okay. That's why we got you this." He gestured vaguely to the cupcake. 

Bucky felt his lips curve into the slightest smile, the biggest one he'd had since his return. 

"Thanks. It...means a lot. Seriously." 

Steve smiled, more brighter and sure than Bucky's own half-smile. 

"Of course, Buck." 

~~~~~~~~~

"So, a hundred and five, huh?" His therapist, Varian, commented as Bucky entered his office. The first few sessions, Bucky had insisted on calling him Doctor Hala, his official title, but he'd made it clear it made him more comfortable to be called Varian. 

Bucky huffed. "Yeah. Never thought I'd make it to thirty. Look at me now." 

"Why didn't you think you'd make it?" Varian asked with a cock of his head as Bucky sat down on the couch adjacent to the chair his therapist was in. 

"Oh, y'know. I always...kind of knew I'd be drafted. I mean, my dad was, and he'd always talked about how...I don't know, something about me being the only boy in the family, it meant I'd get drafted? I can't remember well. Anyway, I always thought it would happen, and then it did." He shrugged. "I kind of thought being drafted was a death sentence, I suppose." 

"Was it?" 

Bucky gave a dark chuckle. "It was worse. Without the war, I wouldn't be here today talking to you about all this trauma, would I?" 

Varian bounced the statement around in his head before responding. "If that's what you think." 

The session continued on like usual, discussing any new memories, small or big, that had come to Bucky. Any nightmares he remembered, anything else he wanted to share. 

As the session neared a close, Bucky decided to bring up one final thing. 

"How much paranoia is normal?" He asked as a starting point, and Varian just looked at him, puzzled. 

"Well, it depends on the circumstance. For your circumstance, I can say at least a bit would be expected, if not more." He confirmed. 

"...is thinking that every time I come home, they'll be HYDRA agents waiting to kidnap too much paranoia?" 

Varian pursued his lips together for a few moments, before speaking. "I think that it is paranoia, so while it is irrational, it is not confusing as to why you have this paranoia." 

"Is it really that irrational? I mean, HYDRA is still out there. They could easily find out where I live." Bucky questioned. 

"Well, you have an AI security system, right? It'll alert you if anybody enters. And if it gets hacked, Stark will know about it, so he'll be able to tell you there could be something wrong in the house. I think you're pretty safe, Bucky." Varian stated.

He gulped and nodded. "Yeah. I guess you're right." 

They finished up their session with a few self-affirming statements, and then Bucky scheduled another appointment a week out and began to head home. 

~~~~~~~~

Bucky was fiddling with the pocket of his jacket as he stepped up the concrete stairs leading to the front door of the house, finally managing to find his key in the vast expanse of the pocket. He unlocked the door, and stepped into the house, toeing his shoes off and hanging his jacket up before walking into the living room. 

When he did, he immediately noticed the room was dark, the lights all off, not even the glow of the TV disrupting the blackness. 

The same paranoid he'd talked about with Varian crept back up in his mind, and his breath began to come in short, heavy pants. Even when nobody was home, the lights in the kitchen or living room were on, or the TV was on, or something- 

He was getting ambushed, they were going to take him, there was nothing he could do- 

He crumpled onto the floor, gripping the base of his skull with his hands, lungs constricting painfully around air that wouldn't release. His heart rate sped up exponentially, entire body seizing in fear and panic. 

There were various voices around him, he could distinguish what they were saying. Probably something about how weak he was, how easy he would be to brainwash again, how pathetic he was for thinking he could live without them- 

"Bucky!" 

A voice, a word, a name, cut through the endless supply of taunting voices and noises of static. 

A voice he knew. 

A word he was familiar with. 

A name that was his. 

"Bucky, Bucky, come back to me-" The voice was pleading, urging Bucky (that's him, he knows that's him, they didn't take his name away again) to come back to reality. 

And with a shuddering breath, he did. 

When he opens his eyes, he's not sure when he closed them, he sees that the lights are on now, and Steve's face comes into clear view. He was kneeling next to Bucky's own figure, which was still slumped helplessly on the floor. 

"There we go. Just keep your eyes on me, alright?" Steve soothes in the softest voice possible, the tone reminding Bucky of a moment in his childhood, although he can't remember which one. He knows it has something to do with Steve helping him with something, though, like he scraped his knee on the sidewalk and Steve was helping him get through the initial sting. 

Bucky nodded slowly. "Okay." He replies, voice hoarse. 

He keeps looking at Steve, even as Bucky hears the sound of footsteps milling through the living room and kitchen. He breathes as steadily as he can, trying to figure out a normal, good rhythm to settle on.

When he finally comes down from the worse of the aftermath of the panic attack and his breathing goes stable, Steve speaks again. 

"I'm so sorry, Buck. We were tryin' to throw you a surprise party, y'know? Where we shut off the lights and when you turn them on we all jump out from hiding spaces and yell happy birthday in tandem? I should've known it was a bad idea, I don't know how I didn't realize-" 

"Don't- don't blame yourself." Bucky says firmly. He doesn't know a lot of things for certain, but he knows this isn't Steve's fault. 

"We have a cake." A voice from the kitchen interrupts, and Bucky registers it as Sam's. 

"Yeah! We got a cake. And a few presents. Do you wanna just chill out on the couch, eat some cake, open some presents? How does that sound? It's just me, Sam and Nat here. You're safe." Steve says the final part like it's a promise he wouldn't dare break, or let anybody break. 

He nods. "Yeah, that sounds good." 

"Perfect." Nat says as she joins them on sitting on the floor. "I got you the best gift. You'll see." 

Bucky did end up seeing, after Sam and Natasha had a slice of cake and both Steve and Bucky had three. They had to keep their super-soldier metabolism happy, after all.

Natasha got him a large, fluffy blanket, with the added bonus of the pattern being the Captain America shield. Him, Nat and Sam had a quick laugh while Steve just huffed in disapproval. 

Sam got him a tiny bird feeder that could be hung from the window in his bedroom, picking fun at the way Bucky had always made fun of the multiple bird feeders on the porch that Sam had set up. The house was going to be a bird sanctuary any day now. 

And finally, and most important of all, Steve got him a tiny plush animal of a bear. 

Most important, because it was the same one Bucky had won for Steve back in 1939 at Coney Island. 

The bear held memories that were locked from Bucky's brain, the key long gone and maybe forever irretrievable, but it still didn't diminish the thought behind the gift. 

The thought and reassurance that Bucky was cared for. 

It didn't matter if he didn't remember the first origin of the plushie. 

He'd remember and hold on to the second origin for the remainder of his life, no matter where that may take him.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like to submit a prompt for me to write, check out the notes of my prompt fills series this fic is in! 
> 
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/cartersleia)
> 
> [Tumblr](https://cartersleia.tumblr.com)


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